South End Stew: Samuel Taylor’s Cool Ranch Stanzas

Pulling on my neck, dragging down my soul.
Through the orange yellows of Dante’s inferno.
To the steel blue fires, the true gates of hell.

Until the heaviness weighs on my brain.
Until, Under Pressure,
adding one note and rhyme,
To beauty created and calling it mine.
Eyes accustomed to the eerie glow,
the lies I believe it’s not touching my soul.